


Lapdance

by Green_Sphynx



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, Lapdance, M/M, Post S4E15, Premature Ejaculation, at least Oliver is having a fairly good time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-07 01:17:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15897951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green_Sphynx/pseuds/Green_Sphynx
Summary: Oliver gets drunk after Felicity ends things with him and Barry is the fastest man alive





	Lapdance

Only once in his life, Barry had received a lapdance.

It was a long time ago - a dark, underage drinking sort of past that he had long regretted both in the form of hangover and Joe's disapproval - and his memories on it were more hazy than he liked. He just remembered the guy who had all but mounted him where he had sat his drunken arse down was incredibly hot. He thought it had been a blond, built pretty solidly - in a muscly sorta way, not fat - and he had smelled of fruity cocktails, woodsmoke and an overpriced cologne. He remembered it had been intoxicating.

He also remembered that his drunk, underage arse had creamed his pants after two minutes of the stranger grinding above his lap, to only the barest brushes of jeans-clad arse to even thicker jeans-clad boner.

All in all, Barry had been quite happy to not remember the guy's face, because if he did he would not be able to ever see him anywhere without remembering that humiliation.

Barry had _not_ been happy that he could never forget _everything else_ from that encounter. And that he secretly really wished he _did_ know who the man had been.

 

Barry was fairly sure he had never seen Oliver this drunk and loose before.

No, scratch that, he had never seen Oliver drunk and loose before, period. And this wasn't just drunk and loose, this was _drunk and loose_.

Of course it was only natural, considering he had been _engaged_ to the love of his life a mere twenty-four hours ago, and now he was dumped for keeping a secret that, frankly, was one Barry would agree on was a good one to keep. That was to say, he had actually advised against keeping the secret because he had already seen how that would play out before running back in time and all that, but Oliver had told him Samantha's ultimatum and Barry was standing completely behind Oliver on choosing to be a part of his son's life over telling his fiancee he had an illegitimate child around. Most people would keep that a secret just because it was a relationship breaker in itself, but that ultimatum made it a no-brainer if you asked Barry.

He knew exactly how it was to grow up missing one or more parents in your life and he would absolutely tried to convince Oliver to go for William if he had decided against it.

Thing was, Felicity still broke off the engagement, basically publicly humiliated Oliver while she was at it because of his current celebrity status, and most happily accepted Oliver's offer to keep the loft that _Thea_ bought, leaving Oliver to move out of his sister's home because of her. The whole broken-hearted splurge of alcohol was to be expected, and Barry was just grateful that Oliver had called him to join him and Diggle for the 'party'.

Sure, Barry trusted Diggle to keep an eye on Oliver… but Barry knew a thing or two about heartbreak - Iris getting engaged and married first, Oliver getting engaged next, he was _really_ good at picking his crushes - and he wanted to be close to one of his best friends in his time of need.

He just hadn't expected that his attempt to be a good friend to, basically, his current crush, would end in _this_.

Oliver was _smashed_ and he was all over Barry, hugging him every few minutes with an enthusiasm like he hadn't seen him for months, hanging against his side with an arm around his shoulders for support, lips almost brushing against Barry's ear as he spoke closely to make his voice audible over the club's music. Barry's face was on fire and Diggle was no help whatsoever, nursing a drink while watching Oliver's drunken antics with so much amusement it was like he paid for the show.

But Oliver seemed to be erring on the side of happy in his drunken stupor, so Barry didn't have it in him to push him away when he wrapped his arms around Barry once again, his stubble scratching Barry's neck in a way that _really_ shouldn't make Barry's cock respond to his broken-hearted friend - crush. He let Oliver brood when the mood struck, let him hug when he needed to, and overall Oliver seemed to be fairly fine, considering the circumstances.

"How'd you do 't when Iris left ye," Oliver slurred, looking more pensive than brooding this time.

Barry cocked an eyebrow, giving Oliver a look. Surely Oliver knew rejection just as well, considering the whole thing with Laurel. "Iris and I were never actually _together_ , nevermind engaged. I just wasn't fast enough to get her, was all."

Oliver started giggling at the pun, and Barry gave a weary little smile. It may be at his expense but at least Oliver was laughing again. And Barry knew he didn't mean it rudely.

That, and it was still _so weird_ to hear Oliver giggling. Barry was never going to forget _that_ for sure. He already felt guilty about how he was likely going to daydream about it, but hey, what Oliver didn't know couldn't hurt him.

"Y'know, you really deserve better than gettin' left all by yerself." Barry almost stumbled back when Oliver was suddenly in his face. A moment later his calves bumped into something, and before he knew it he was sitting in a lone chair, just a little to the side from the bar. Diggle had turned on his barstool to follow them with a curious look, probably to make sure they would be fine.

"As do you, Ollie," Barry laughed nervously, backing down in the chair as Oliver leaned over, their faces uncomfortably close. Uncomfortable, because it made Barry desperately want to lean in and kiss Oliver. It made him imagine Oliver going for those last few inches and kiss _him_. It also made him hyper-aware of Dig watching.

"Y'know I would _never_ leave you, Barr…"

"I know Ollie." Barry awkwardly patted Oliver's cheek. "I won't ever leave you either."

_Did he just say 'won't' instead of 'wouldn't'? Oliver better be too drunk to catch up on that._

"Let's dance, Barry!"

Barry almost choked in surprise in the sudden change from earnest to _exhilarated_ , letting himself be pulled from the chair - only to be promptly pushed back down in it. What came next gave him the liveliest and most unexpected flashback he'd ever had or expected to have.

_Hip rolling low, thighs spread wide over his lap, whole body bouncing with the beat. A blond head rolling from side to side, lips parted and looking oh so kissable and oh so far away, and Barry so hard in his jeans he was certain to embarrass himself soon._

Oliver had his hair much shorter now, but the movements were the same. The glazed drunk but piercing blue eyes were the same. The _scent_ was _the same_.

Barry gasped hard, pressing back in his seat as much as he could while Oliver gyrated his hips over his lap, his dancing downright _dirty_ and making Barry's brain short-circuit.

_Oliver was giving him a lapdance and he had no idea what to do with it._

He wanted the earth to swallow him whole. He wanted to hide and never face anyone ever again in his mortification.

He also wanted to put his hands on Oliver's hips and pull him down on his lap and grind up against him, kissing him hard to let him know exactly how much Barry wanted this.

He ended up going somewhere in the middle, his hands finding Oliver's hips without pushing or pulling, his head tilting away to avoid those deep, mesmerising eyes he always wanted to get lost in. He felt Oliver's arse roll to just lightly brush the tent in Barry's jeans just as he met Dig's surprised, wide eyes.

_Oh fuck_ .

"Ollie-" he choked, knowing he should push Oliver away. He was taking advantage by letting Oliver do this, probably. But he _couldn't_ , he physically _couldn't_ push at those gyrating hips and lose this insanely hot moment that would certainly never happen again. All he could do was let his jaw drop as he stared up at Oliver's face, close and intimate. Oliver's hands came to Barry's shoulders for support, but his control was absolutely perfect, especially considering how drunk he was. He didn't drop to sit down, keeping himself hovering right over Barry's lap in a show of muscle power that had Barry dizzy imagining it in itself, only ever touching that bulge in his pants very lightly on every few rolls of his hips.

"Barry," Oliver moaned.

Oliver _moaned_.

Barry shook, limbs jerking as he came in his briefs, helpless against that husky, guttural voice.

_Oh._

_Oh fuck_ .

Oliver was smirking at him so smugly there was absolutely no way he didn't know what just happened, but he _did_ pull away from Barry's lap.

"You need 'nother drink, Barr," Oliver informed him with a wink, completely forgetting how Barry couldn't get drunk, and turned on his heel surprisingly steadily to march back to the bar and leave Barry alone in his mortification.

God, he really did need a drink. And clean underwear. And Diggle to stop laughing at him.

Barry buried his face in his hands with a desperate groan, and he just wished he could forget about this just like his last lapdance. _Anything to keep himself from jacking to this memory for the coming decade, really_.


End file.
